


Dalliance in the Kitchen (amorío)

by itnas_x



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: All of them are, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, POV Original Character, PoC character, Work In Progress, chef fic, cutesy i guess, harry is still famous, smut later, some sexual themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itnas_x/pseuds/itnas_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isi wants to be a chef. When her first few weeks away from home don't go as smoothly as she wants, she feels as if she's spiraling out of control. Who will be there catch her? Can this person be the missing link to her problems? Whatever. Sometimes you do what you got to do to keep the roof over your head. Even if aforementioned roof has some leakage problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whisk Me Off My Feet

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, this is a work of fiction. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author (myself). The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

_Dear Mom,_

_LA is wonderful so far, the city is alive with magnificent people and things. Rhea and I are making the best of our tiny apartment before we both make it big and move into our dream penthouse (I wish I could see the look on your face as you read that, haha)! Either way, things are going great, Maria has set me up with a few interviews for this week and I’ll definitely keep you updated! Tell everyone I miss them dearly, and I’ll be home for Thanksgiving._

_All the love, Isi._

 

I gave the postcard a kiss before dropping it in the box. It was true, I was having a wonderful time getting all of my things moved into the tiny, tiny little apartment I was sharing with my best friend. We had spent the last week sight-seeing and job hunting for Rhea. Luckily enough for me, I kind of already had a job. After graduating from culinary school in New York, where the rest of my family still is, I got signed with CoCCA (cute right?), or Chefs of Culinary Continental America. They essentially look for people, companies, or restaurants that are in need of cooks. My manager, Maria, saw my potential and sent me off to California to interview with a few important companies and celebrities to make my way to the top.

Just kidding.

I had asked her if there would be any opportunities out west. I wanted something different. My parents, both freelance workers, live in New York City, and as much as I love the place, I’m ready for something new (and more importantly warm). She told me that the place is crawling with wannabe Rachel Rays and it would be tough, but if I really wanted this, she could get me some interviews. That’s apparently all I needed. I convinced my best friend in the whole entire world to come with me. As it turns out, she didn’t need that much of a push either, because within the next month we were packing all the shit we could in my ’03 Jetta and making our trip from one coast to the other.

The reality of our tiny little apartment in downtown LA was that it was a shithole. Oops. Home, sweet home right? Wrong, actually, but that was beside the point. Who cares if two girls with way too many things shared a single loft apartment? Who cares if the AC is hit or miss in the dead of summer? Who cares if the water pressure in the bathroom is about as strong as a sprinkler with someone on the other side stepping on the hose? Not that you want to spend that much time in the water we get anyways, but who cares? The point of living in a city is that you shouldn’t have to spend that much time in your own place. We’re young, pretty, and stupid, we should be out making friends and mistakes, and just having fun. I found out quickly though, having fun requires money…

So here we are in our tiny shithole of an apartment.

Whatever, at least I have my independence.

After dropping the postcard in the box on the corner of our street I made my way to my car. Today was the day. My first interview, among a few others, was in an hour. I had planned it out perfectly, and was on schedule, if not, a few minutes ahead, which was great.

I tried to keep that energy rolling as I sat in LA traffic for longer than I had anticipated.

“Shit,” I cursed laying on my horn. I could see a few car lengths in front of me completely clear, what were these assholes doing?

I looked at the clock on my dash. I still had time but I was cutting it a little too close for comfort. I know I complained a lot about New York traffic but holy crap, LA puts the Big Apple to shame. Maybe I need to invest in taking the bus from now on. I didn’t want to do that for my interviews because I knew how easily I could get lost. I wasn’t too proud, but I also don’t trust public transportation. Especially in a city I don’t know.

Either way, I ended up being late for my first interview. Not the impression I wanted to make but that won’t stop me from at least sliding my resume under the door with a sticky note attached to it saying “Sorry” and a sad face underneath.

I had better luck with the second interview, probably because I got there an hour earlier than necessary. I sat in my car chain smoking before dousing myself in perfume and popping some altoids to freshen up. I grabbed my purse and walked toward the building.

The guy interviewing me for this position was a large older man who ran a popular restaurant in the area. As I sat in, what I assume they had set up for a waiting room, at the back of the restaurant near a few other offices. There were a few other people waiting. I couldn’t help but notice, aside from the receptionist, I was the only female. Not that that made me nervous, but it did throw me off a bit.

I checked in with Lauren, her nameplate said, and she sent me into one of the offices right away. My unease was well placed apparently, when I walked in to face the older man sitting at the large desk, he looked up briefly from his papers and scoffed.

Well then.

“Have a seat, Miss…” he trailed off in an annoyingly monotone voice.

“Smalls, Isadora Smalls, sir,” I said sticking my hand out to shake his before sitting down. His hand was large and clammy, it engulfed mine almost completely before crushing it with entirely too much strength. I cradled my hand against my chest when he released me and sat down.

“My name is Mark Coutie, I manage the restaurant and take care of hiring, firing, payroll, et cetera.” I watched as he pulled out a folder with my name on it. He sat a few stacks of paper on his desk, I’m assuming my resume and other important things Maria must’ve sent him.

“So, Miss Smalls, I see here that you are fresh out of school, graduated with a perfect 4.0 and have essentially all the requirements I’m looking for,” I preened at the seemingly nice things he was saying to me. “The only thing I’m worried about is that it doesn’t look like you have much experience in a professional restaurant setting.”

“Oh, but I’m a super quick learner,” I added in enthusiastically. “I’m confident that I would fit perfectly into the fast paced world of a professional restaurant business.”

“I’m sure you would,” he said, obviously not paying attention to my babbling. I could feel myself rolling my eyes at this entitled asshole before remembering I seriously need a job.

_Smile and nod…_

It was at this point I watched as his eyes came up from reading over my resume to scan over what he could see of my body. I was thankful for the large desk in between us. When his eyes lingered a little too long on my chest, I coughed quietly and he finally looked up to meet my eyes. A smile spread across his red face. He looked like a creepier type of Santa Claus. My stomach dropped and I could feel the bile rising up my throat as he licked his lips and scanned me once again.

“Miss Smalls, I have to say your resume is very impressive,” he still spoke with that slow drawl that made my skin crawl for some reason, I tried to ignore it. “I would like to offer you a chance to impress me with your… cooking skills.”

“Okay…” I trailed off, “Did you want to schedule another time for me to come in and cook or did you want me to bring something in…?”

“We can do it now, actually. If you walk out of this room and down the hall, the door on the left will lead you to the restaurant. The kitchen is in the back.”

“Alright, um, is there anything else you wanted to ask me before I head down there?” I asked. I was getting bad vibes from this guy. I really didn’t want to but another part of me highly doubted I’d be down there with just him, right?

“No, you can head on down, I’ll be there in a few. Get used to the kitchen in that time and start whenever you’re ready.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The kitchen was beautiful. So much space, so many new and extremely fancy appliances. I hung up my purse on a hook near the door as I racked my brain trying to think of something easy that wouldn’t take too long to cook, but would still be memorable.

_Chicken, definitely, with a cranberry walnut glaze, maybe?_ I thought. _Or! I could do a fresh lemon zest with some dill and rosemary and bake it…_

I sat thinking for a minute or two before deciding on chicken marinade with fresh mango and habanero peppers. I giggled to myself as I pictured Mr. Coutie’s red face with even more color from the peppers as walked around grabbing different ingredients. _Act like a pig and I’ll cook you like one, sir._

I was full torso in the gigantic walk in, not wanting to go completely inside fearing getting locked in – because I _had_ noticed I was the only one down here – until I heard movement and voices in the restaurant. I closed the door knowing they would be coming into the kitchen soon, best not surprise anyone.

I started grabbing pots and pans making sure that I was making noise as well when the swinging doors opened with a force that caused them to bang against the wall and scare the crap out of me. The utensils I had in my hand flew from my grasp and clattered to the ground, rivaling the noise the doors created and left a dead silence when all stopped moving.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was in here,” I couldn’t place a face with the voice because I was on the ground trying to regain my confidence as well as the silverware I had thrown in a fit of terror earlier.

“It’s fine!” I said smiling as I stood back up, walking over to the sink. “It’s not your fault I frighten easily, although I would go a little easier on that door next time.” I began washing the dishes that had fallen, still not looking over to who had joined me.

Good thing, too, because when I finally did meet the eyes of the intruder I was momentarily stunned. The man standing in front of me was absolutely gorgeous. He was tall with dark hair that grew in curls. His eyes were a beautiful light blue that almost looked clear surrounded by long dark lashes. His smile was wide with pretty plump lips and straight white teeth.

“I always make sure that when I enter a room people’s eyes will be on me,” he said with an accent of some sort. European, but I couldn’t place where. He smiled again and I lost my train of thought.

“Alright then,” I responded not even all that bothered by his cockiness I could practically see seeping from his well-toned body. I turned going back to preparing my meal for Mister Coutie.

The man watched me as I moved around the kitchen with an intense, almost glare, before piping up, “So, not that I am complaining, but what is a beautiful woman such as yourself doing in my kitchen?”

I tried not to falter in dicing the peppers when he called me beautiful, but I did stop to look up and respond to him: “I’m being interviewed my Mr. Coutie for a position as a chef here.”

“Is that so?” he seemed skeptical. And as if he was waiting for that particular queue, Mr. Coutie walked into the kitchen.

“Ah, Mr. Carrasco, I’m glad you’re here, this is Miss Smalls, she is interviewing for the position of one of our line cooks.” Mr. Coutie had his hand on the shoulder of _Mr. Carrasco_ – god, even his name was sexy – as he motioned in my general direction. “Miss Smalls, this is Levi Carrasco, he is the executive chef of this restaurant, and will also be tasting your test dish. I hope you’re making enough for two. When you have completed your dish, please plate it and bring it to the dining room.”

And with that they were both gone. I finished the rest of the meal quickly, adding some fresh steamed veggies to the side and topping the chicken with a sweet pico de gallo to tone down the heat of the habanero. I put the two plates on a tray and walked out the swinging doors to the only two people sitting in the dining room.

“And here you go,” I said placing the plates in front of the two men explaining the food and the process.

“Please, Miss Smalls, sit with us,” Mr. Carrasco said, gesturing to another chair in between him and Mr. Coutie. He flashed me another knee-buckling smile and I almost sighed aloud.

I sat and watched as they ate, reveling in the satisfied sounds coming from each bite. _This is what I cook for_ , I love watching as people enjoy my food. And as weird as that sounds it’s truly why I decided I wanted to be a chef. Because I like making people happy, and everyone loves food.

Once they finished Mr. Carrasco picked up both the plates and headed back to the kitchen. Mr. Coutie and I sat in silence for a moment before I started to stand to go help clean up.

“Miss Smalls, do not worry about cleaning up, the dish washers will be here soon,” he said before I even took a step away from the table. So I sat back down.

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling bad. I knew I made a mess back there. Whatever, I hated doing dishes anyways, I just wanted to spend a little more time with the hottie in the back than actually doing my job completely by cleaning up after myself. Mr. Coutie nodded in response before wiping his mouth one last time.

“That was a wonderful meal, Miss Smalls. I think this restaurant could definitely use you as a part of our team.”

“Thank you.”

“The last things we need to get done is for you to fill out some paperwork, and other miscellaneous matters. Why don’t we head back to my office?”

I froze as soon as he finished speaking, his large clammy hand had moved from his lap to slide up my bare leg from my knee to my inner thigh. I panicked briefly before shooting out of my seat, the force of which caused the chair to topple backwards and clatter on the hardwood.

“Mr. Coutie! That was so incredibly inappropriate!” I whisper shouted as I backed away from the table. Why was I whispering? I should be screaming. I may just.

He rose slowly, heaving, as if that small amount of movement put him out of breath and began to walk towards me. I backed up even more before the tops of my thighs came in contact with another table. “Now, Miss Smalls, there’s no need for alarm. I figured you would be a woman of privacy, that’s why I offered we move to a different area, less… open concept.”

I supposed he was referring the open window where we could see into the kitchen from the dining room, I glanced over briefly trying to see if Levi was in there, or literally anyone. I saw nothing. I didn’t know how to respond to the situation. I turned my head in time to see him continuing his advance, and as soon as he got close enough I took both my hands and shoved him backwards with as much force as I could muster.

It wasn’t much apparently, he moved about a step back, looking like he just lost his balance and continued on his pursuit. I slid closer towards the exit. I could feel myself begin to shake, angry and terrified, I was more than ready to bolt out the door.

Keeping my voice as even as I could manage I spoke slowly, “Mr. Coutie, I don’t know what you thought was happening here, but I was looking for a job based off my skill, not my ass.” My hands shaking and hear my heart beating so loud I barely heard what I was saying, “I am not that type of girl, so you can go ahead and find someone else, you fucking pig!” With that I turned and walked as swiftly as I could manage to the front door of the restaurant and bolted as soon as I was out the door. I didn’t stop running until I was good couple of blocks down the road.

I didn’t know honestly, I was out of breath. I started crying at some point and was still shaking. I felt so gross, all I wanted to do was go home and shower for three hours in scalding hot water. I can’t believe that just happened to me, like seriously, what the fuck?

I tried to compose myself a little bit before trying to figure out where I was. I walked around, still sniffling, before realizing I had made my way into a residential area, away from the main strip. How far, I wasn’t sure, but my guess was very far away from my car, at least. Big fancy houses, probably movie stars and people like Beyoncé lived back here. It came to my attention I had left my purse in the kitchen in my haste to get out. I had no money, no form of ID, no phone, and no tissues. I was attempting to gracefully wipe the tears from my face with my sleeve when I felt my body collide with another. At least, I assumed it was another body, the thing I came in contact with was hard, like, hard enough to make me fall backwards. Before I fell on my ass, which would have probably put the cherry on top of a fantastic day because I would’ve most definitely torn my favorite pencil skirt and maybe even broken a heel on my favorite pumps… A pair of large hands caught me by my biceps, steadying my swaying figure.

“Watch out there, love,” a British accent greeted me, along with a pair of the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.

“I’m so sorry,” I gasped as I moved away from the stranger, who kept his hands on my arms. I probably look like a fucking train wreck in a skirt as I wiggled my way out of his grasp. I definitely did not feel like being touched right now.

I’m not too entirely sure what took me so long to recognize who I had just bumped into, but apparently it was the last straw I had, because as soon as it clicked in my head I passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, when I first typed the whole thing out I was like, "Oh my god, its so long why did I write so much." But I feel that its a good lenghth for a first chapter, and in reality not that long. Regardless, thank you, whoever took the time to read the wole thing! This is the first fic I've posted in a veeeeeerrryy long time so hang in there with me while this progresses.  
> Let me know how I did, what you thought or even what you think is gonna happen next!  
> Also, I don't have a schedule for when I will post the next chapter but it should be sometime this week. If it takes any longer than that someone yell at me to get my butt in gear. I will also add tags and characters as I go so pay attention to that when it comes along.


	2. Romaine Calm, and Carrot On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all I am so sorry with no excuse. idk why this took me so long but here ya go

I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what had just happened. I think I fainted? I know this whole day had been pretty overwhelming but what was it that freaked me out enough to faint?

As that thought passed through my mind my senses were still returning to me, I felt myself being lifted bridal-style. I still didn’t feel like opening my eyes just yet, my world still spun. I wanted to say something to whoever was carrying me to put me down but I couldn’t seem to find the words. Where was I going? Who’s holding me anyways?

_HolyshititsHarryStyles._

That’s right! I had just bumped into him while I was wandering through this fancy residential area in LA. I guess he lives around here. Is that creepy to try and remember? Wait, did I faint in front of Harry Styles, really? Wow, that’s embarrassing. I started to wiggle in his arms because my voice still didn’t seem to want to work. I felt his muscles tense to keep me still, which honestly only made me want to move more.

“Easy, easy, wait a second and I’ll put you down, yeah?” I heard him say. His voice sounded miles away even though I could feel his breath fan across my face as he spoke. His voice was lovely, even in my disoriented state. I could hear the slow enunciation mixed with the deep tone and careful movements in his words. How soothing, I tried to tell my pounding skull.

Oh my god I’m so close to him. Why am I so close to him? I might faint again.

I felt him take a few more steps and bend to gently place me on the ground. He must’ve found a gate or wall, something to lean me against. I opened my eyes slowly to see we had moved up against the wall across the street from where we started. Thankfully he had put me in the shade so I didn’t have to deal with the glaring afternoon sun. I attempted to take in my surroundings before meeting those beautiful green eyes set in a concerned stare directly trained on me. I could hear, very clearly, the gulp that involuntary made its way down my throat.

“Here,” he said, gesturing as if he had just remembered what he was doing. He screwed the cap off the water bottle he was holding and reached to hold it against my lips. For whatever reason, this made me jerk my head back and slam my skull against the concrete bricks, which did nothing for my headache, trust.

“Shit,” I hissed, curling into my knees. I heard a soft chuckle come from above me. Was Harry fucking Styles laughing at me? I lifted my head enough to sneak a peek through my hair to see him smiling down at me.

“Afraid I have cooties?”

I slowly straightened myself up to make eye contact, “I don’t know what you have.”

“Ouch,” he laughed my comment off quickly before handing me his water bottle to me again. “Seriously, you’re probably dehydrated, you need to drink some water. Have you eaten anything today?”

I had to think about that, had I? I took a few healthy gulps of his water before coming to the conclusion, no, I don’t think I had. I shook my head telling him so.

“Do you live around here?” I shook my head no again. “Well, looking at how you’re dressed, you’re probably not far off. Do you remember how you got here?”

I shook my head no before turning back to that first statement, “What does that mean, looking at how I’m dressed? How am I dressed?”

“This isn’t an outfit I would see someone jogging in, I mean, yeah it is LA, but the tight skirt can really limit your mobility…” he trailed off, pausing for a moment before continuing his thought, “… I can’t imagine those shoes are meant for comfort, either.”

“What made you think I was out exercising?”

“It’s that or you’re lost and running at the same time? I don’t know, but you did run into me with some pretty heavy force.”

“Jesus, it’s not like I came at you like a linebacker!” I exclaimed laughing before having clutch my head in pain. Too much oxygen to the brain gave me the spins again.

“You okay?” his hand came to rest on my shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy,” I said regaining my composure. I attempted to stand, because as exciting as this was, Harry was right. I needed to get some food.

My legs were shaky as I slowly rose from my sitting position. Harry rose with me hands out like he was expecting I was going to fall again. Strong possibility, but things were moving pretty okay.

“Seriously, are you going to be okay?” He asked me again, seeming concerned. “I can call someone to come get you if you want.”

“No, that’s fine.” I waved him off. I was feeling way better as the seconds passed. Now my main problem was figuring out where I had taken myself. I was in an unfamiliar area, without my car, without cash, and I hadn’t checked my phone in a while but it was probably safe to assume my battery was running low. I checked my surroundings again trying to remember the way back to my car, or at least my apartment.

Aaaaaaannnnndddddd, nothing.

I lowered my head, sighing in frustration.

“Seriously, let me call someone to take you home,” I looked up to see Harry pulling out his phone.

“No, no, that’s okay. I don’t have money for a cab,” I laughed a little, “Um, can you just point me in the direction of Maloney’s?” I figured I was probably pretty far from my apartment, but I ran here directly from my interview at the restaurant so at least I could walk back and get my car. Not that I really wanted to be anywhere near that fucking place. I shuddered at the thought of possibly running into Mr. Coutie again.

“That big restaurant off the strip?” he looked at me accusingly. “That’s a little pricey, why don’t we try this sandwich shop down the road? Amazing food, and nowhere near as far.”

“Oh, no, no, my car, um, is at Maloney’s, I-I, um, I had an interview there… earlier,” I was stuttering, I never stutter. Just thinking of what happened had me on edge. I didn’t want to go back.

“And you walked all the way down here?” He sounded amazed. How far did I go?

“Technically, I ran.”

Harry paused for a moment staring at me before he whispered, “… Why?”

“Well, the manager tried to stick his hand up my skirt,” I tried to sound blasé, but I could hear my own words trembling as they fell out of my mouth. Tears threatened to come to the surface, I looked up and blinked rapidly. I tried my best not to make eye contact with the pop star still standing in front of me. God, I felt so pathetic.

_Get over yourself Smalls, if you wanna go cry and feel bad for yourself go home and do it. Never in public. Never let anyone else see._ I berated myself, making sure my eyes were dry before turning back to Harry.

“Sorry,” I said looking down, “I didn’t mean to unload that on you, it’s been a bit of a rough day.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said soothingly and reaching out to stroke my shoulder. I had to bite my lip to keep more tears from falling. “Let me take you home, okay?”

“No, seriously, its fine. You don’t have to go out of your way, I’ll be okay,” I looked up and locked eyes with him and in that same instant the waterworks began.

“Okay…” he trailed off placing both his hands on my shoulders and making me sit back down against the wall. “Stay here.” He took off running down the street leaving me there a sobbing shaky mess. God what the hell is wrong with me? I definitely need food. Food always makes things better.

I was thinking of what to make for myself when I got home, how I would get there was not an issue I was even entertaining at the moment, when I heard a car pull up in front of me. I looked up to see a sleek, black range rover stopped on the curb. The driver’s side door opened and Harry stepped out.

“Come on, now,” he said, his hand extended down towards me. I took it, briefly noticing how much larger his hand was than my own. He led me over to the passenger side door and opened it for me to climb in.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this you know, you don’t even know me.”

“I know, I want to,” he said making sure I was in before closing my door and walking around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up, love.”

_Don’t swoon._

I did let a sigh escape my lips as I reached to do as he said. His car was beautiful, probably worth more than my entire apartment, including everything in it. I took in the clean interior as he buckled his own belt and put the car in drive. As we cruised out of the residential area we came up to a stoplight.

“Where am I heading?” he asked me, hands at ten and two, but looking in my direction.

“Um, back to Maloney’s to get my car?” I asked uncertainly. I didn’t really want to go back there but I knew I had to retrieve my vehicle at some point. Maybe I’ll just make Rhea go get it later.

“Hmn. How about home, yeah? I’m not sure if you can be trusted behind the wheel just yet.”

I laughed at his completely correct assumption. “Yeah, I guess.” I gave him directions to my tiny place downtown. His windows were tinted pretty dark but I still sat low. Last thing I needed was someone seeing me in Harry Styles’ car and get the wrong impression. I could see the headlines now, _Harry Styles picks up young bum from fancy LA and brings her back to the streets._ Lord.

“So,” he started, breaking the silence, “I did just realize I don’t even know your name,” he paused, chuckling, “I’m Harry.”

“I know,” _SHIT_ , “I mean, I’m Isi.” _Nice save, dumbass._

He laughed, “I figured you knew who I was.”

Now it was my turn to laugh, “Did I not hide it well?”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from being famous it’s that fans give off a certain vibe, even distressed as you were I saw your shock before you fainted.” He glanced over at me, not taking his eyes completely off the road and smirked. I caught sight of the dimples again. _Fuck me._

“Oh my god, how embarrassing,” I whined covering my face with my hands. I could hear him laugh again as he made a turn. I peeked through my fingers to look at him.

His face was concentrated on the road, his hands now relaxed against the steering wheel, seat leaned back. He looked perfectly comfortable and incredibly sexy driving. I observed his long fingers grip the steering wheel as he made his way through traffic, his beautiful eyes scanned the road as we moved through LA. His long hair was still pulled back in a bun and he was still in sweats. I realized then I must’ve interrupted his mid-afternoon run when I literally ran into him.

“Is ‘Isi’ short for something?” he asked me, bringing me out of my daze.

“Isadora.”

“Pretty,” he said before continuing, “Did you just move here, Isadora?”

“It’s kind of obvious, huh?” I laughed.

“Well, getting lost, interviewing for jobs, stunned by celebrities,” he said that last part with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows that made me want to throw a quick punch to his arm, so I did. “Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt, baby.” I laughed again, “Yeah, I just moved here from New York with my best friend.”

“New York? Like the city? No wonder you’re so violent,” he commented rubbing his bicep with his hand that wasn’t still driving. The movement caused his muscles to flex which almost caused me to drool. I reigned it in remembering that we were having a conversation.

“Maybe if you weren’t so cocky…”

“I am not cocky!” He interrupted.

“Alright,” I said putting my hands up, and smiling, “Whatever you say.”

“How could you think _I’m_ cocky?” he scoffed at me turning his nose up. “So rude.”

I laughed again shaking my head, “Don’t assume people just swoon over you whenever you flash those cute dimples of yours.”

“Not people, just you,” he smiled again, “’Cute’?”

“Adorable.” He preened and I had to stop from attempting to throw myself out of the car.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” his eyes glanced over to meet mine and I immediately looked down at the door handle. How fast are we going? Could this kill me? Harry Styles just called me cute, kind of. Whatever, I’ll take it.

We stayed silent like that for a moment. I still hadn’t made direct eye contact with Harry since the cute comment, my cheeks still heating my face. I stole quick glances here and there letting my mind wonder when he started speaking again.

“So, can I ask what you were interviewing for at Maloney’s?” His words were careful, as if he was worried I would cry again.

“I was gonna be a line cook,” I said sighing. “It would have been fantastic, but that guy was a creep from the minute I stepped into his office.”

“Ugh,” he shuddered, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I could see his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “It just makes me so angry thinking about scum like him thinking he can get away with that kind of shit.”

I sighed, “Thank you, Harry, honestly I’m just glad I didn’t start the job and find out later,” laughing half-heartedly I turned to look out the window. Watching the buildings pass as sped through the city.

When we arrived in front of my building I sat for a minute wondering if Rhea was home yet. I needed a good cry sesh and someone to split a grilled cheese with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already got like half of the third chapter done but that doesnt mean anything... I hope to have it up within the next week hehe


End file.
